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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24911641">Stranded</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmelieofK/pseuds/AmelieofK'>AmelieofK</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>iKON (Korea Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Fluff, Gen, Heist, M/M, Mystery, Suspense</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:56:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24911641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmelieofK/pseuds/AmelieofK</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One mysterious winter night, four strangers became entangled in a web of secrets and lies, all because they were collectively stranded in a foreign country, thanks to an unexpected blizzard. As the four attempted to make the best out of an awkward and unprecedented situation; a sordid past came unravelled, tensions began to overflow and the quest for a missing jewel became the focal point of their unwelcome, extended stay. Will they ever resolve their differences and perhaps find their way back to the path of their destinies?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Goo Junhoe/Kim Jiwon | Bobby, Kim Jinhwan/Song Yunhyeong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Winter Is Here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First Twitter AU. It was a challenge trying to shift this into AO3. Most of the work was done on the Notes app in my iPhone, a major throwback to my early days when I wrote fanfics for BB back when I was younger and my eyesight was better. I will tweak the story here and there to make the flow better over the course of the next few days (or weeks, depending on my fancy). Will I ever attempt another Twitter AU? Maybe. Maybe not.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A blizzard forces four strangers to converge in a foreign land. Will camaraderie bloom or will they remain strangers?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Tolmachevo airport was surprisingly bustling, even for a weekday night. Snow drifted densely in the air, swept by the unforgiving Novosibirsk winter air. The place was spacious and semi-deserted, with a few people coming and going, wheeling luggages and checking their flight status on the flickering screens hung suspended in rows from the ceiling. The departure terminal were sectioned into berths, delineated by metallic bucket seats in rows of two facing each other. Only two of these berths were currently occupied. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Berth four, buzzing with activity, were filled with an entourage of families; an assortment of adults and kids; all safely bundled into matching winter jackets, the males in blue and females in pink. One of the toddlers, wandered off towards the berth next to it, the only seat occupied by a pair of legs encased in dark navy blue denims rounded off by heavy brown Timberland suede boots. The toddler, ambling cluelessly, grabbed the tip of one boot chuckling in innocent pleasure. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The upper body these same legs were attached to, began to shift slightly. The toddler’s gaze tilted up to the glittery peepers underneath the bill of a cap. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Boo.” A raspy voice emanated from under the shadow of the cap. The toddler retreated two steps back in shock and tripped over his own legs. He fell back onto the carpeted floor and started crying. His parents rushed over, glancing around and only seeing a man fast asleep in the opposite berth. They collected the child, pacifying him whilst gazing warily at the stranger, who seem oblivious to the upset baby.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Moments later, a man walked towardsberth three, wheeling a glittered rose gold luggage. He passed a hesitant glance at the stranger sleeping and promptly sat across from him. Hetook off his Oakley’s, folded the temples and sheathed the shades into the pocket of his brown leather overcoat. He gazed sharply at the sleeping man across from him once more, before tearing his eyes away to look at the information screen. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Muffled steps across the carpet brought a new addition to the denizens of berth three. No wheeled luggage, but instead a rectangular leather haversack hung off a small back. Dark boots with light blue jeans tucked into them and a loose, oversized sweater, almost like a caftan completed this almost whimsical, get up. The smell of an extravagant perfume marked his arrival. He slumped himself into the other end where the sleeping man was at, smiling and nodding a half greeting to the man wearing brown, who had been staring at him, almost in fascination. Brown Coat, flashed a quick smile in return and then he was back to glancing at the screen. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Heavy steps broke the silence. Tapered legs strutted into view, the tail of a long khaki jacket flapped against the lengthy limbs. A mustard gold blouse buttoned up and tucked into dark casual pants. A face mask did very little to hide dark, piercing eyes. A guitar case and a shoulder bag was thrown carelessly on the vacant space beside the man wearing the brown overcoat. Just like that, three became four. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Outside, the winds began to pick up pace, a low-vibration whistle barely intelligible, began to fill the atmosphere. By the time the occupants of berth four boarded and their plane prattled away amidst a bunch of Hail Marys and some very strong whiskey, the only people left in the departure terminal were the quartet of strangers in Berth three. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Attention passengers.” A soft, heavily accented feminine voice could be heard over the announcement speakers. The occupants of Berth three, even the one asleep, stirred to attention. “We are sorry to announce that due to bad weather conditions, all domestic and international flights at Tolmachevo International Airport are suspended until further notice.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck-a-duck.” The stranger in the cap exhaled, loud enough for the other three to hear. Brown Coat looked at the screens in disbelief as the words SUSPENDED in both English and Russian, highlighted in red, were flashed intermittently beside the flight numbers he had been gazing at so dutifully for the past fifteen minutes. The man in the caftan hoodie, petite and short in stature, but attractive nevertheless, stood up and started stretching his limbs, looking around to see if any airport staff was walking up to them to offer alternative arrangements. The tall drink of water in khaki, did not even utter a word. He stood up, shouldered his guitar case and his bag, strutting towards the information counter. He still had the face mask on, but his eyes were already burning with impending anger. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shortly after, a very tall and statuesque lady walked over with him in tow. She was garbed in the maroon and striped uniform of the airport staff. She also looked extremely nervous. Tall drink of water was speaking in impeccable Russian to her and he obviously does not sound very happy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So...uh, she wants me to translate the options offered to us while the services here are suspended.” His voice was deep and definitely tinged with unhappiness. The other three sat down, looking at him expectantly as the lady turned to the tall stranger and spoke to him in Russian slowly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had unsheathed his mask and his face seem to be carved from marble; chiselled and structured finely. The brows, furrowed in frustration, did very little to take away the attractiveness and even the lady seem flustered as she rambled on. After almost five minutes of back and forth between him and her. He finally turned to the three people waiting for the outcome.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well?” The guy wearing cap intoned with an impatience that seem to border on rudeness. Their tall translator regarded him with a stony gaze and stated,</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s saying that the blizzard might delay the flights for as long as a week. The best she can do for us is offer lodgings for four at the hotel next door. Any other place would be impossible for travel due to the current weather.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve got to be kidding me?!” Cap Man looked utterly unhappy and given the circumstances, Tall Guy could totally commiserate, but Cap Man had an air about him that was completely detestable. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly he found lacking, but it was there, all the same.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You mean the airport will provide us rooms at the hotel for free, for as long as the flights are grounded?” Brown Coat was saying now. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not exactly. “ Tall Guy explained. “The best they can do is two rooms with king-sized beds, so they said we would have to be split up into two groups.” He added. Caftan Boy sighed loudly, fingers flouncing his floppy, dirty-blond fringe. The other three turned to look at him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess that will have to do. Do you mind if I share the room with you?” He pointed to Brown Coat. It did not sound like a question though, more like a statement. “No offense, but you two look like trouble.” He declared quite candidly, already carrying his haversack and putting on shades, as if any other thoughts on the matter was not up for discussion. He gestured for the airport lady to lead the way.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure. “ Brown Coat answered, smiling faintly, standing up and pulling his glittery luggage along to follow Caftan Boy, glancing apprehensively at the remaining two, with no protests. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is fucked-up. I’m not buying this shit. I’m getting the fuck out of here if it’s the last thing I’ll do.” Cap Man was on a self-contained rampage now. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Suit yourself. I’m not averse to having the room to myself.” Tall Guy intoned, strutting off to follow the other two, putting his face mask back on without even so much as a single glance behind him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Making Friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Resigned to sharing rooms, the four strangers stranded in the blizzard attempt to make the best out of a bad situation. Well, at least two of them did while the other pair seem content to carry the chips on their shoulders respectively.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The accomodations were surprisingly, not too shabby. Hotel Destiné was far from a four-star establisment, but it was clean and the bedsheets did not smell funky. Although the wallpaper and flooring did looked as if it had been a throwback to the Gorbachev era with its tacky, fleur-de-lis patterns in dusky 80’s colouring, it was tolerable and thankfully not moldy. The two rooms were connecting and each had a king-sized bed, a wardrobe, dresser and a bathroom with shower attachment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, at least they have cable.” Caftan Boy exclaimed after turning on the TV. He jumped onto the left side of the bed, crossing his legs comfortably. Tall Guy had stood at the open connecting door, gazing at them with a smirk on his face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Song Yunhyeong.” Brown Coat remarked casually, holding out his hand as he sauntered against the doorframe of the connecting door. “That’s Kim Jinhwan.” He nodded toCaftan Boy, now surfing channels like a couch potato. A hand shot up in a lazy wave. Tall Guy took this all in and shook the hand before him effusively, before letting go almost immediately. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Koo Junhoe. Have a good rest, gentlemen.” He snapped and shut the connecting door even before Yunhyeong could fully reel his hand in from the doorframe. There was the unequivocal sound of locks being turned. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey you do know that the door opens and unlocks from both ends, right?” Yunhyeong yelled from the other side of his room with a lopsided smile. He glanced back at Jinhwan, who was shaking his head in faux disbelief. "Can you believe this guy?" Yunhyeong added in mirth.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What a friendly fellow countryman!” Jinhwan commented sarcastically, finally settling on a variety show, before kicking his boots off and letting them fall to the floor on the side where he had discarded his haversack. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yunhyeong chuckled, shaking his head as well, pushing the handle down to a click and carrying his luggage up, before placing it gently on his side of the bed. He unzipped the first layer, taking out slippers on top of neatly folded matching pajamas. This was followed by a towel and a toothbrush/toothpaste set in a ziplocked plastic bag. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jinhwan had turned, resting his head on one angled hand, watching this repast with amusement. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You do know that the hotel provides towels and toothbrushes, right?” He inquired. Yunhyeong beamed a smile. He had handsome features; not exactly the outstanding model looks like the tall, arrogant guy next door, but more of a classic, leading man stature, which made him extremely approachable. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do know. I...I guess I am just not used to travelling and like to be prepared. “ He admitted sheepishly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is it your first time here?” Jinhwan asked. Yunhyeong nodded, his smile faltering, just the slightest. “It’s different from Seoul’s winter isn’t it?” Jinhwan enthused.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Definitely super cold here.” Yunhyeong commented. “I kinda miss Gyeong-jjido’s cold now. I’ll never complain about the winter nights there, ever again.” He shared in all earnesty.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you have thermals? That pajama is not going to make it. They got the heaters cranked up now, but they might only let it run till morning, so you better take precautions. “ Jinhwan added, sitting up, unsheathing that shapeless, impossible looking caftan to unveil a petite frame, clad in a white v-neck, woolen sweater.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do have thermals. I’ll put them on after a good warm shower. I'm assuming it's not your first time here? Are you here for business?" Yunhyeong asked casually, still taking out an amazing amount of clothes from his luggage. Jinhwan nodded, smiling at him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I've been around a lot. Used to date a hotelier too so, I kinda anticipate these things." Jinhwan stated although Yunhyeong could already see that the smile he was flashing now, was just a veneer of the one Yunhyeong had been accustomed to in the few short hours since they met. Yunhyeong's mother always said he read people well. Even so, Yunhyeong nodded understandably. They just met anyway and to pry wuld have been rude.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Do you want to use the bathroom first?” Yunhyeong offered.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s fine, kid. You go ahead since you’ve already got your stuff out and all.” Jinhwan waved his hand in a flippant gesture and settled back to watch the show he had on.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kid?! Are you sure I’m younger than you?” Yunhyeong mused, a brow hitching upward in disbelief. “I’m twenty-four.” He added confidently. Jinhwan chuckled.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m twenty-six next month. So you should call me hyung.” He declared. “But, you look like a good boy so you can just call me Jinan.” He added teasingly. Yunhyeong bowed in a show of respect, and then they both burst out into amicable laughter. "I hope those two get along well with each other the way we are though." Jinhwan added, nodding at the connecting door.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm not a gambling man, but if I was, I would not bet my last dime on it." Yunhyeong bantered. Both had no idea at all that after checking into the room, Junhoe had practically left to get himself a drink and mull over the current state of affairs.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Junhoe turned out from the lobby, glancing in amusement at Cap Man, who was still stuck in what seem to be a heated argument with the concierge at the hotel’s reception counter. Apparently, the hotel was fully booked and throwing a major bitch fit was not going to make a room magically appear. A turn of the lobby's corner later and Junhoe was thankful to find the bar still operating at that hour and ordered himself a shot of whisky. His hands searched the inner pockets of his coat, finding the half empty pack of cigarettes tucked there and he took it out, throwing it onto the counter carelessly, gesturing for the bartender to pour him another shot. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Two stools down and someone kicked his wheeled luggage so hard that it hit the bar counter with a resounding bang. The bartender, in the act of pouring Junhoe’s second shot, looked up at the newcomer warily, considering if he was going to cause any trouble. Junhoe threw a few Euro notes onto the counter remarking in Russian that he was not worth it. The bartender glanced at the notes, very much aware that Junhoe was tipping way too much and decided it was best to keep his peace. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gin. Straight.” Cap Man’s throaty rasp could be heard over the counter even before the bartender moved towards him. He sat a stool away from Junhoe, that practical scowl growing darker on his face. The bartender had poured him his drink in sullen silence. “Leave the bottle.” He added. The bartender looked at him in puzzlement. Junhoe translated the instruction in Russian and the bartender shrugged, leaving the bottle and turned to wipe the shot glasses at the other end of the counter quietly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you must have lived here for a long time, huh? I mean, considering you can speak the language so comfortably?” Cap Man conjectured as he placed the empty glass down and poured himself another shot. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I trained here for almost six years, played here for another four. Learning the language became a necessity.” Junhoe intoned, draining his whisky. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You must have been by yourself since you were very young.” Cap Man added, pouring another shot of gin. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s way too many assumptions you’re making for a stranger whose name you don’t even know.” Junhoe intoned, turning the shot glass slowly around the enclosure of his palm, eyes fixed on the crumpled pack of cigarettes wistfully. He had neither touched nor attempted to light any of the sticks inside at all.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kim Jiwon.” Cap Man stated, holding his hand out. Junhoe gave a cursory glance in the direction of that hand and smirked, returning his attention back towards his drink and that pack of smokes he would never light.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“I have yet to decide if you deserve to know my name, Jiwon-</span><span class="s2">sshi</span> <span class="s1">.” He responded and drained his shot in one sitting. He stood up, grabbing the beaten pack of cigarettes he had left on the counter.The one he had no intention of ever smoking, returning it into the inner pocket of his jacket. “If you are going to come into the room in the middle of the night, please don’t turn on the lights. I’m a very light sleeper.” He duly informed and left, nodding at the bartender, who flashed him a salute and a grateful smile. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Too Close For Comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A call in the middle of the night brought Junhoe back down to the bar and Yunhyeong inadvertently finds himself caught in his own blatant lie</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The phone blared loudly in Room Two Eighty-One. The analog clock beside it blinked the digits <em>3:00</em> in red lights. In the semi-darkness, the shapeless covers on the bed moved and a hand shot out from under it to blindly grab the receiver. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Yeah?” Came the sleepy, husky voice from beneath the thick blankets. There was an irate reply in Russian and then, “<em>Fuck</em>.” Junhoe woke, putting on ,a long winter jacket over the shirt and pants he wore. It was not cold but it was steadily and surely getting there. </span> <span class="s1">He was downstairs at the bar within five minutes after the call. The bartender saw him and nodded pointedly to the figure hunkered over the bar, screaming for more gin. Junhoe sighed heavily as he trudged in. “Come on, man. You’re embarrassing yourself.” He urged the inebriated figure who barely stirred now. Junhoe gazed at the bartender. He considered paying the man enough to get him to carry the spoilt brat, but then remembered that he came down with just his room key. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sighed, tugging at Kim Jiwon’s jacket, slinging him over the shoulder without effort. He asked the bartender if the bill was settled and the man nodded. Thankfully, the lobby was empty, although the lift operator was about to comment something, but decided he had worked there long enough to know that it was none of his business what the hotel's guests got themselves up to in the dead of the night. Junhoe returned to the room, heaving the deadweight of his roommate onto the bed unceremoniously, hoping the blizzard would end sooner than the estimated four days. As fate would have it, the snowy storm would last slightly more than the slated four days. It was infact, recorded as the worst storm in the history of the town itself. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the second day of being holed up in their rooms, the four had settled into a sort of forced companionship with the exception of Jiwon who slept in most of the hours after being banned from the bar. There was only so much the bartender could take and even Junhoe's offer for money was refused. It almost felt as if Junhoe had taken on the role of a grumpy babysitter, asking Jinhwan to hide all the miniature bottles at the rooms' bar and even ensured room service not to serve them no more than four cans of beer a day forcing Jiwon to go cold turkey on his dependency for alcohol. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Today morning, Yunhyeong stood by the bed quietly, watching Jinhwan as he snored softly in his sleep. Gone was that friendly face he normally put on for the last two days. His face this morning seem carved in stone and unsmiling. His roommate would probably stir within the hour, so Yunhyeong knew he had that window of time to finish what he needed to do. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tiptoed towards the connecting door, unlocking it with stealth. He had barely entered when a pair of arms grabbed him, flipping him in the air before making him land quite forcefully onto the carpeted floor with a thud. He groaned, struggling against the hold, only to realise that the other person was way much stronger and had him in a death grip by the neck. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Why are you here?!” It was the broody, tall one. </span> <em><span class="s2">Junhoe</span></em><span class="s1">. Yunhyeong groaned, realising that the fall was bad enough to make him forget the boy's name for awhile. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wanted to see if I could use the shaver. The one in my bathroom is not working and...and I ran out of the manual ones.” He explained, trying to get himself out of that grip. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You think I’m going to believe that lie.” Junhoe was not even panting. What he did was twist his arm slightly and Yunhyeong could feel the sharp pain in his neck. He tapped Junhoe’s arm urgently.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, alright.” He stated in a breathless surrender.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The truth.” Junhoe warned, tightening his grip once more. Yunhyeong nodded, repeating again that he was ready to tell the truth. Junhoe released him slowly, getting up and putting on a careful stance to show that he was ready if Yunhyeong was ever going to try anything funny. Yunhyeong’s fingers grazed his neck gently, still feeling the sting from Junhoe’s hold. He passed a glance towards the bed, surprised to see that Junhoe’s hotel mate was not even there. The bed had been slept in though. That was apparent. “He’s in the shower, you have about five minutes to explain.” Junhoe intoned firmly, sitting in the only armchair in the room. He was dressed only in his bathrobe and Yunhyeong should have known that if he had needed an accomplice in the mission he had been set about to do, Junhoe would probably be his best choice, judging by the curt, yet firm and responsible behaviour he had displayed so far.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Friend Or Foe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Junhoe forces the truth from Yunhyeong and gives Jiwon a hard time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Junhoe waited, arms folded waiting for Yunhyeong to begin his explanation quietly; legs crossed and tapered fingers steepled in front of the lower half of his face. It was the next best thing he could do after realising that someone was trying to come into the room he shared with the lush currently running cold water over his wasted self. It was hard to believe, but the facts were there in Yunhyeong's pale face. Junhoe was utterly surprised to see him making his way in surreptitiously like a thief. He had expected someone else, but then again he barely knew any of them, at least not personally. Yunhyeong was rubbing his neck already reddened after being almost forcibly choked for the truth by Junhoe. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Where the hell did you learn that move?" Yunhyeong asked, wracking a cough as he sat at the edge of the bed, trying to recover.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I've had to fend for myself since I was a kid, I picked a few things along my travels. Now quick, explain before he's done and finds you here." Junhoe rapped urgently. Yunhyeong gazed at Junhoe's tired face. It looked as if he had aged a hundred years overnight and decided if he had to tell anyone the truth, Junhoe probably deserved it judging by how miserable he looked this morning. Yunhyeong explained that he was an insurance investigator with Seoul’s Criminal Breach of Trust Department. He stated that two months ago, a prominent family had placed in a claim for a family heirloom which they said had gone missing. A jewel which also happened to be a national treasure. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yunhyeong had walked quietly back to his room at this and had taken a folder from his luggage silently, trying not to wake Jinhwan up as he did so, passing it almost reluctantly to Junhoe, who flipped through it, looking unconvinced still.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The Gwangju Sapphire, is a <em>Kashmir</em> <em>Neelam</em>, a rare and priceless blue jewel. During the Joseon era in the eighteen hundreds, it was said to be gifted to Her Royal Highness, Princess Shim, the fourth daughter from the Emperor’s third wife, by a Middle Eastern Prince who had been beguiled by her beauty.” Yunhyeong regaled as Junhoe listened quietly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What happened to the jewel?” Junhoe asked impatiently as Yunhyeong glanced at him in annoyance at having his narrative interrupted. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, the princess refused the prince advances and when he asked for the jewel to be returned to him, the Emperor claimed the jewel had been stolen by a palace courtier. From then on, the myth split into two theories. Some scholars believed that the Emperor had claimed it to be falsely stolen because he wanted to keep the jewel for himself, while a few others were certain that it had really been pilfered by a palace official as he had claimed. The jewel surfaced in nineteen sixty three in the hands of the Kim family.” Junhoe sat up at this piece of information. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kim family?” Junhoe asked. Their respective roommates had the same surname. Yunhyeong nodded as if to affirm Junhoe’s train of thought. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In nineteen sixty three, famous industrialist Kim Dak Joon opened his house for a public viewing and a picture of the jewel, encased in glass had caught the media’s attention. It was assumed to be passed down through his family. A lineage checked indicated it was possible that one of the Kim forefathers had served in the Emperor's court during the timeline of the jewel going missing, but it was inconclusive, of course. Two months ago, Kim Dak Joon’s heir had filed a claim that the jewel had been stolen. Our investigations had shown that around the same time, the heir’s youngest son had made a trip to Moscow quite suddenly for no apparent reason.” Yunhyeong surmised, gazing at Junhoe as if welcoming him to continue.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me get this straight, you have actually travelled across Russia just to find out which of these two Kims is the current Kim family heir's youngest son?” Junhoe guessed. Yunhyeong nodded. “Do you really believed that they had one of their own bring a priceless jewel all across the world to this godforsaken town, just so they could put in a false insurance claim? I mean, that’s pretty farfetched.” Junhoe added cynically. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not, when you consider the circumstances.” Yunhyeong informed him. “The grandson of Kim Dak Joon flew to Moscow a day after his father reported the jewel missing.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh?” Junhoe absorbed the information with furrowed brows. “but which of these two is the grandson?” He questioned. Yunhyeong shook his head. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s the thing our side haven’t been able to figure out. Both their Hangeul names sounds similar and there is very little we know currently about both.” Yunhyeong admitted in frustration. “Maybe you can help me?” He was gazing at Junhoe now, hopefully. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have got to be kidding me.” Junhoe husked an exhale. The conversation came to an end as the bathroom door clicked open. Junhoe passed the folder back to Yunhyeong. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good morning.” Yunhyeong greeted Jiwon cheerily. Jiwon glared at him from the bathroom entrance. “Was wondering if you both would like to join me and Jinhwan for breakfast?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where at?” Junhoe asked, unrobing and making his way to the bathroom as Jiwon exited with only his towel covering the lower half of his body. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I heard the hotel’s cafe serves hearty borscht. And it’s complimentary.” Yunhyeong suggested. Behind him, he could hear his roommate stir. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You taking the bait?” Jiwon asked, glancing back at Junhoe. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not like I can take you to the park to play catch. Plus, I’m hungry. Count me in.” Junhoe intoned wryly and closed the bathroom door.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You heard my dog. We’ll see you downstairs in an hours’ time.” Jiwon mused as Yunhyeong trudged back towards his room, still rubbing his jugular where it still ached to wake his roommate. The hotel's cafe was relatively empty which was no surprise considering that it was close to eleven in the morning as the foursome walked in.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You guys look like the honeymoon just turned sour couple.” Jinhwan commented when Junhoe and Jiwon arrived, both glum and looking as if they both had a bad night. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where’s Mister Prim and Proper?” Jiwon asked, sitting down. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Over there, getting more of that borscht he kept raving over before he even tasted it.” Jinhwan quipped turning and waving at Yunhyeong, who was beaming at them from the service table. Junhoe was already peering at the food displayed there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I see cereal.” Junhoe declared. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is there milk?” Jiwon sat up, looking at the table’s direction.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s cereal. There should be milk. Otherwise, we can look for a cow.” Jinhwan joked. Junhoe chuckled,</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good one. Maybe if you move your lazy ass, you’ll see what you want and get it for yourself.” He droned pointedly to Jiwon and swaggered off. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, how do you both even share a room with your temperaments?” Jinhwan exclaimed in amazement. Jiwon snickered and stood up.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Him? I can live with that. At least he doesn’t hide anything from me. Your roommate on the other hand...I mean, can anyone be that perfect?” He mused and slunk off, smirking. Jinhwan bit his lips pondering. The man might be a drunk but he did have a point. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Two days ago, he had entered the room, only to find Yunhyeong kneeling on his side of the bed. He looked flustered when he sighted Jinhwan and had said that he had dropped his pen while writing a note and it had rolled under the bed. Jinhwan had dismissed the encounter and did not think of it until much later, when he was about to take his clothes out of his bag, realizing the zip was open. He swore that he had closed it that afternoon. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yunhyeong and Junhoe returned moments later. Yunhyeong with a steaming bowl of hot beef broth and half a loaf of bread already dunked into it, soaking all the hearty goodness. Junhoe returned with two bowls. One with borscht and the other a plate of salami sandwich and a side of what looks to be a pickled cucumber salad. He also had a dollop of some white cream on top of his broth. Yunhyeong looked on in astonishment at his spread. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that how you are supposed to eat it?” Yunhyeong inquired curiously. Junhoe nodded, mixing the cream in with the soup. “What’s that!?” He pointed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sour cream.” Junhoe replied, taking out a bottle of vodka from his underjacket. Jiwon came back with a bowlful of Koko Krunch and milk. He saw the vodka and pushed his bowl aside, reaching for it with an almost instinctive reflex. Junhoe slapped his hand away from the bottle without missing a beat, stirring his borscht with his free hand. Yunhyeong and Jinhwan watched this brusque display in silent amusement. Kim Jiwon had the face of a spoilt brat used to getting things his way, so to witness him being deprived of the things he clearly was used to getting was definitely a show. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You said...” Jiwon argued ruefully, staring at Junhoe with wounded pride. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I said, you can have a sip if you eat properly.” Junhoe countered firmly in between sips of the borscht and bites of the sandwich. “So eat.” Junhoe pointed his soup spoon in the direction of the cereal. As if to prove a point, Junhoe opened the cap of the Absolut and took a swig. Jiwon seem to exhale in a mixture of anger and frustration before grabbing back his bowl of cereal. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He began to eat the cereal with gusto, chewing, but his gaze stabbing daggers in Junhoe’s direction. He cleaned the bowl in under a minute and his fingers attempted reaching for the bottle once more. Junhoe slapped his hand away once again and with a bitter, knowing smile that looked as if he was up for another bout of mind games, taking out a shot glass from his other pocket. He poured the vodka into this glass and with the back of his hand slowly pushed it across the table. Jiwon swallowed his cereal and quickly took a gulp, pushing back the shot glass, hitting it twice on the table demanding more. Meantime, oblivious to his surroundings, Junhoe closed had screwed the cap back on, tucking the bottle back into his jacket, his weary but still winsome face barely showing any signs of emotion. That smile on his luscious lips remained sealed. He then continued eating, without so much as gaze at Jiwon. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go fuck yourself.” Jiwon muttered and left kicking the chair when he realised Junhoe was not going to provide him with another shot. He stormed out of the restaurant like the petulant child he is. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow. He isn’t over being banned from the bar, huh?” Jinhwan asked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not by a long shot, I guess.” Junhoe shrugged. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Most Unexpected Confrontation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Both Jiwon and Junhoe find themselves at loggerheads once again. Jiwon was forced to confront the past which haunted him. It was enough to culminate into yet another confrontation both Yunhyeong and Jinhwan were helpless to stop.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Hanbin's character in this fic is only served as part of a memory for both Junhoe and Jiwon.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hotel apparently had a heated indoor pool, a fact which Yunhyeong insisted was definitely worth the trouble to rouse them to join him after breakfast despite Jinhwan's protest. He even stormed into the connecting room, breaking the tension between Jiwon and Junhoe, wo both looked as if they were still caught in a deadlock in the battle of willpower. Jinhwan had even said that Junhoe's firmness in disciplining Jiwon was quite interesting considering they were practically strangers and it had made Yunhyeong wondered too if there was more to it than meets the eye.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are really not giving up, aren’t you?” Junhoe whispered to Yunhyeong, as the four of them walked out of their respective hotel rooms. Jinhwan was walking in front with Jiwon, his babyface filled with animated expressions which seem to fascinate Jiwon, who got over his bad mood real quick, when he realised he had no other option, but to come along. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m still trying to figure out which of them is the <em>chaebol</em>. My money is on Jiwon.” Yunhyeong confided. Junhoe laughed softly, but said nothing, which puzzled Yunhyeong, but he dismissed it quickly, gazing at both suspects walking in front of him sharply. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just want to get out of this place as soon as possible, man.” Junhoe enthused. The pool was surprisingly not crowded, but there was more than enough pool space and the four went into the designated changing rooms to change.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This needs to stop.” Jiwon confronted Junhoe while he was about to walk out from the changing room. Yunhyeong and Jinhwan had left for the pool earlier, dressed in board shorts, bantering and slapping each other’s backs with the towels provided by the hotel as they emerged. There were metal lockers and benches for guests to put their belongings in and this was where Jiwon had stopped Junhoe. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What needs to stop?” Junhoe muttered, putting on a robe over his own shorts. The air down here was like a sauna and he was starting to sweat, his hair fluffy and damp, his fringe sticking close to his forehead. He did not like the way Jiwon's eyes appraised him. Almost as if he was ogling, which was why he decided to put the robe on. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You treating me like a baby.” Jiwonpushed him on the chest, causing Junhoe’s back to hit the metal lockers. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe you should stop behaving like one.” Junhoe pushed him right back. “Behaving this way will not bring him back.” Junhoe added, strutting out. Jiwon hooked his arm on Junhoe’s, dragging him back roughly. His face was now mired in shock. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“What do you mean? What </span> <span class="s1">are you talking about..." Jiwon was sputtering, his eyes, filled with anger and frustration, had gone as wide as they could, demanding an explanation."Do you-you do know something, don't you?!” Jiwon was riled, far from the man Junhoe had read about in Hanbin's letters to him from Korea.  </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know more than you think, so why don’t you get your head out of your ass and stopped inhaling all that crap?” Junhoe pushed him and walked out, without being held back this time. There was a slight bang as Jiwon hit the lockers this time, but he had stopped fighting. He slumped onto the bench, burying his face into his hands, allowing the memories he had kept repressed for almost three years, to resurface. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was winter in Seoul when he first laid eyes on Hanbin. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The auditorium was packed to the hilt with students, most of whom were there for the free hot coffee and sandwiches. Jiwon was there, because it was the only warm place in the campus that had a decent heater. That was when the small backstage door opened and Kim Hanbin walked in. Jiwon recognised him. Everyone did. He was the musical genius, who had put their low-ranked university on the map. The reason why suddenly Mapo became the education hub for students of music and arts. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That night, he kept almost eight hundred students cozy with the music he coaxed from between his fingers and the ivory keys of the grand piano on stage. Later on, Jiwon realised that other than his body and soul, Kim Hanbin had stolen his heart as well. They were happy for the next two years, living in that cramped apartment; sharing a bowl of ramyun, because they needed to save on tuition fees. Jiwon, who had never relied on his family's money for his endeavours, was contented to find someone who did not mind hardship. Hanbin’s scholarship only paid for his lodgings and his piano lessons, which was more than what they needed. That last year, Hanbin had lost a tremendous amount of weight. It was all that smoking, Jiwon had complained. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You need to quit.” Jiwon insisted. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We need to talk.” Hanbin had replied, his sunken eyes bleak with worry. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What about?” Jiwon asked as he cleared the table with the repast of yet another convenience store meal bought from their last few hundred wons.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I found my family.” Hanbin declared, not with joy, but resignation. He had been adopted as a child, orphaned as a baby and he often talked about finding his baby brother, who was maybe two or three years younger than him. Jiwon had not known he was still searching. “I’m leaving next month to meet my brother.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where to?” Bobby asked, already feeling the emptiness that would probably descent as soon as Hanbin left.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Russia.” Hanbin announced.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“For how long? And who is paying for your trip?” Jiwon asked. Something was off about the whole thing. It felt almost as if he was leaving for good. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just a few months, my brother plays for the orchestra at a national level and he’s got a place in Moscow. Everything is paid for. Nothing to worry about.” For once he sounded chirpy and mayhaps, if Jiwon had listened or even watched him closely, he would know immediately that Hanbin had told him an outright lie. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Well, not all of it, anyway. His queries in Moscow almost a year ago barely bore fruit and when he finally found out where Kim Hanbin was, all it led to, was an unmarked grave. He had saved enough to return to Korea and still remained plagued by the heartbreak Hanbin had left him with. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A letter from here, a week ago, brought back all those bitter memories once more. It was written in Hangeul and in it, details of Hanbin’s death was made known. The writer had said that he just received word from someone in Moscow that Jiwon had been searching for Hanbin. The writer also added that Hanbin succumbed to lung cancer a few months after he had reached Moscow, and that in fact, the unnamed grave Jiwon had visited belonged to Hanbin’s. The letter expressed sentiments of a vague apology for not explaining to him earlier with the circumstances of Hanbin’s fate, which only roused more suspicions from Jiwon. He had taken a sabbatical from his gaming start-up and fly down to Russia to find out more. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">If only the person who wrote had given a name and an address. All he had was whatever had been postmarked on the letter and his search had led him down another </span> <span class="s1">wild goose chase. Now, he was stuck here in limbo, as if he had not been living in one already, devoid of his solace in drink, wrapped in perpetual cold. Junhoe’s words echoed in his mind and he was certain Junhoe knew more than he had led Jiwon to believe. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He walked out, sighting Yunhyeong and Jinhwan at a corner of the pool, laughing, probably sharing a joke. His eyes scanned and found the figure surging forward in the middle of the pool.Cutting through the water with a powerful breaststroke, Jiwon’s eyes rooted itself on Junhoe’s lengthy figure. From the moment they met, he could already feel an instant dislike that was almost instinctive. It was the first time he ever felt animosity towards anyone for no reason at all. The way Junhoe was curt and sarcastic, that brusque way of talking to people, everything about him was sharp, even his face. Yet, Jiwon could barely hold back the attraction he felt as well, his eyes always wanting to latch on that chiselled jaw or those broad shoulders. It was frustrating and Jiwon dived in, intent on getting some proper answers about the love of his life.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Painful Truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Junhoe comes clean with Jiwon, painful as it may be, the pain they shared became the very thing which bonded them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There might be a slightly risquè scene in this chapter for added content</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><span class="s1">Jinhwan, who had seen Jiwon dived into the pool and swimming so intently towards Junhoe had nudged Yunhyeong and they both had reached there just in time to stop the melee. Junhoe would have landed the first punch if Yunhyeong had not reached there in time to stop him whilst Jinhwan had to practically drag Jiwon away by the waist, because Jiwon's hands held those sturdy shoulders in a death grip. </span> <span class="s1">Now that they were back in their rooms. Jiwon had dragged Junhoe, locked the connecting room door and pushed the study chair under the handle for good measure to avoid any interruptions from the other two who only watched everything unfolded with a helpless sort of misery.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What gives? Who are you?” Jiwon asked, pulling Junhoe by the arm. His gaze found the red handprints along the curve of that shoulder and flickered guiltily before loosening the grip on Junhoe's arm. “You knew Hanbin?” Jiwon demanded. Junhoe stood still, gazing at Jiwon closely. He was so close that he could see the amber brown of Jiwon's eyes filled so exquisitely with pain which he could relate to. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t even know what he saw in a loser like you.” Junhoe sighed deeply, settling himself at the edge of the bed, head in his hands as if he was having a headache. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were the one who wrote the letter to me?” Jiwon's voice had gone soft shocked by this realisation. "It had been you all along who had sent me the first letter back in Moscow and then the latest one from here. It was you all along." Jiwon exhaled in a sigh, full of despair. "You’re the brother he wanted to meet so badly.” Jiwon intoned. Junhoe snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Was that what he told you? That he was going to Moscow to meet his brother?” Junhoe stated. The disdain in his voice was apparent and filled with an unspoken sorrow which Jiwon found hid more than what he had known at face value. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes. Well, aren’t you? The brother he left behind in the orphanage when he was sixteen, because he had been adopted?” Jiwon questioned, sitting beside Junhoe, gazing at him, eyes as wide as they could go, realising that perhaps Hanbin had not completely told him the truth.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We grew up together in the orphanage, yes. I was the one who got adopted. Not him. He gave me the place that had been meant for him. We were supposed to stay close to each other, he promised that someday we would be reunited and perform in the orchestra together. I’m not his brother! I was his first love!” Junhoe shouted, before crying wretchedly into his hands, forcing Jiwon into a stunned silence. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was almost as if the last dying flames of love he held like the burning of hope in his heart was suddenly extinguished by the gust of truth after hearing this ardent declaration. How guarded Hanbin had been during their first few months, his excessive smoking and evasive answers about his past. How he was almost always in tears every time he was on the piano, when they were done making love and all the moments in between. Hanbin, who harboured more secrets from the one person, who thought he was the only one Hanbin was capable of loving in this world. How their love had all been nothing but living in the darkness of a lie.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tell me everything, Junhoe. Tell me, now. You know I deserve to know the truth.” Jiwon pleaded, even though he knew it would cause him nothing but absolute pain. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Junhoe told him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hanbin had flown in to Russia, looking like the ghost of his teenage self. It was a short-lived reunion as he collapsed immediately after slightly more than a month in Moscow. It was Stage 4 lung cancer and Hanbin had only flown over to tell him that he was sorry and that he had been living with someone else for the past two years. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re in love with him?” Junhoe had asked as he gazed lovingly at Hanbin who was lying on the hospital bed, weakly. Hanbin nodded, clasping Junhoe’s hands in his tenderly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I still remember my promise to be with you. That’s why I came. I..I still love you, somehow.” Hanbin rasped, already feeling his energy ebbing away every minute of the day.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You didn’t have to. You could have stayed and be happy.” Junhoe stated, letting the tears culminate then trickle slowly from his eyes, tracking down his fair cheeks. Hanbin wiped them slowly with his fingers.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That would not be fair...to you. ” He trailed off. His love for Junhoe had remained just as strong. How this was possible befuddled Hanbin. Perhaps it was a gift meant for the dying; to love two people so deeply and without restraint. “I need you...to tell him. That I’m sorry for being so weak. For being a coward and not telling him the truth.” Hanbin had added breathlessly. Junhoe nodded, harbouring resentment in his heart, that Hanbin would want him to contact the man, who had almost stolen Hanbin away from him. “Promise me.” Hanbin insisted, his breath was choppy and urgent.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I promise, Hanbin! I promise!” Junhoe stood up in alarm at the sudden, incessant beeps from the machines keeping Hanbin alive. “Nurse!” He screamed. Hanbin’s eyes had remained on Junhoe’s face, closing slowly with an unspoken affection. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Junhoe had wallowed in grief for the next two months, keeping himself locked in the conservatory. Then he had received the approval for his training in classical guitar in Vladiovostok. He was barely a month there when he received word from his fellow musicians in Moscow, that someone had come looking for his deceased friend. It had reminded him of his promise to Hanbin but for awhile, he faltered. His selfishness in wanting to keep Hanbin’s memory free from being tainted by this Kim Jiwon, Hanbin had told him about, overrode the duty of his promise. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he finally did, Junhoe could only write to him about Hanbin’s demise and little else. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This hatred inside of me grew even after Hanbin was gone and I could not understand why?!” Junhoe was sobbing through unrelenting tears. “ I didn’t even know you, but I hated you so much, it hurts my head more than my heart!” He added in frustration. "It was bad living in tis place for the longest time, but even after telling you, I could not live with myself."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you...did you feel the same when you knew it was me? When you realised who I was?” Jiwon asked now. “You were flying back to find me, weren’t you?” Junhoe nodded. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wanted to be done with hating you. When I found out it was you I was stranded with at the airport that night...” Junhoe explained. “I wanted to kill you so bad, my hands were shaking.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What made you change your mind?” Jiwon asked, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your pain.” Junhoe intoned. “The way you were drinking without any control. I could feel it eating you inside. It was unfair of Hanbin for leaving you hanging like that. That pain more than anything else, made me realise you were suffering just as much as I was. “ Junhoe muttered this under his breath, almost as if the fight had left him for good. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for that.” Jiwon exhaled. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t thank me. I still hate your fucking guts, so don’t.” Junhoe quickly said.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Doesn’t matter. I’m just...I think I just want to go to sleep now. I feel so tired.” Jiwon was saying, crawling into the bed, his voice filled with so much pain and sadness, Junhoe could practically feel it coming off from his body in waves. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Me too.” Junhoe admitted, swinging his legs up. This was draining him just as much. They slept and somewhere during the night, Jiwon had woken up from a nightmare. He had glanced at Junhoe, who was stirring awake. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry. I had a bad dream.” Jiwon quickly said. In the semi-darkness, Junhoe groaned in reply. One of his hands had found traction on Jiwon’s shoulder. It was surprisingly comforting. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go back to sleep.” Junhoe intoned, pulling Jiwon back down on to the bed, this time pulling Jiwon down and onto his other arm. Jiwon laid stiffly, eyes finding the ceiling, completely awake, uncertain if Junhoe was even aware exactly who was lying beside him. He could feel Junhoe's eyes on him in the darkness and he wondered if he still saw that person who stole his first love away from him. Jiwon turned to him in the darkness. Junhoe's eyes gave off enough light for him to discern the flutter of lashes and the middle bridge of his nose. His pupils regarded Jiwon with a tinge of wariness and a dearth of warmth Jiwon was surprised to see.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm sorry for waking you up." Jiwon whispered, his breath hoarse. He could not even remember what the dream had been about. His fingers had slowly rose, finding that gritted jawline. Jiwon drew nearer and his lips found the supple softness of Junhoe's slightly parted ones. "I'm sorry." Jiwon quickly said again after releasing that compliant, silent mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You are such a bastard." Junhoe stated coldly but only shifted closer until he was slowly nestled under Jiwon's chin. "Go to sleep." He added.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It would be hours before Jiwon drifted back to sleep and by then, Junhoe was already embracing him tightly. Jiwon realised he was not averse to the touch at all. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Not The End Quite Yet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jinhwan reveals his play in this tragic tale and plunges the complicated present further into confusion.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yunhyeong woke up to the barrel of cold, unforgiving steel pressed against his temple. He gasped, pressing himself back into the pillow, trying to breathe. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Give me a good reason not to blow your brains out, Song Yunhyeong.” Jinhwan’s voice; soft and dangerously dulcet, filled the dim darkness. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I...I...don’t know what you are talking about.” Yunhyeong stuttered, feeling himself sweating from every pore. The click on the safety pin made Yunhyeong flinch. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you doing here, really? Who are you after?” Jinhwan asked. Something was thrown against his chest. It was his CBT id badge. He had hidden it well. Not well enough, apparently.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You went through my things.” Yunhyeong declared in an accusatory manner. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You went through mine.” Jinhwan countered and that silenced Yunhyeong. “Time to come clean. What gives? Why are you here in Vladiovostok?” Jinhwan questioned, the gun still aimed at Yunhyeong’s head. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jinhwan listened. About the jewel. About the suspects he had in mine. His mission to retrieve it and prove that the insurance claim was false. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And you thought it was me?” Jinhwan asked. Yunhyeong nodded.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You or Jiwon. I’m waiting for confirmation from the HQ. I...I guess, it’s not you then.” Yunhyeong surmised, gazing warily. Jinhwan shook his head slowly. “What’s your angle, then?” It was Yunhyeong’s turn to ask. Jinhwan smiled. It was a rueful, bitter smile.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No angle. It’s work. Someone wants him dead. I’m here to fulfill my end of the bargain.” Jinhwan intoned.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who? Jiwon?” Yunhyeong asked. Jinhwan nodded. “Who would want him dead?” Yunhyeong asked. Jinhwan shook his head.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m only paid to do the job. Not to ask questions.” Jinhwan interred. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who paid you?” Yunhyeong asked. Jinhwan shook the revolver. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m the one with the gun. I’ll ask all the questions.” He stated firmly and Yunhyeong kept his silence. It was ironic that he had always thought Jinhwan was probably the most normal between the other two. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was funny, though. Even if Jiwon was the chaebol heir and did steal the jewel, why would anyone pay to have him killed? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What, now? You can’t get away with just killing me, right?” Yunhyeong asked. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No. I won’t kill you. I just want to know where the jewel is. Come on, let’s go. Time to get all these questions answered and get the ball rolling.” Jinhwan stated, gesturing for Yunhyeong to stand up and follow him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jinhwan pulled Yunhyeong out of bed, gesturing for him to unlock the connecting door to the other room, which Yunhyeong did hesitantly, hoping either one of the two in the other room would be awake. Both Junhoe and Jiwon, still drained from the emotional upheavals they had sustained from uncovering their sordid past, barely stirred from their slumber.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, well, well, what do you know? From enemies to lovebirds.” Jinhwan announced, turning on the lights even as he prodded Yunhyeong with the gun, gesturing for him to sit on the armchair as Jiwon and Junhoe began to wake up sluggishly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s going on?” Jiwon muttered rubbing his eyes. Junhoe gazed at Jinhwan seemingly unsurprised by the sight of the gun in his hand. “Are you crazy?” Jiwon exclaimed now. “You could get somebody killed!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And somebody will.” Jinhwan intoned coldly. “Unless someone gives me the jewel first.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are after the jewel too?” Junhoe was asking, first glancing at Yunhyeong before returning his gaze back at Jinhwan again in puzzlement. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? What jewel?” Jiwon was questioning now. He had stood up, putting on a shirt and gazing at the gun in Jinhwan’s hand in disbelief.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“The one you stole from your father’s safe, Jiwon-</span><span class="s2">sshi</span> <span class="s1">. Did you really think I came all the way here to kill you and not ask about the jewel now that I've found out about it?” Jinhwan intoned, eyes moving warily from Yunhyeong to Jiwon and then to Junhoe.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why would anyone want him killed?” Yunhyeong asked once again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Revenge.” Junhoe muttered, getting off the bed. “Bitterness. Jealousy. Are those reasons good enough?” He added, standing up slowly and putting on his shirt. The gun was steered in Junhoe’s direction slowly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You?” Jinhwan’s eyes widened in surprise. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes. I am Blueheart31.” Junhoe sighed. That had been the domain name of the anonymous client who had contracted him to kill Kim Jiwon. He had even placed the downpayment of twenty thousand needed for the job to be done. Now, it was Yunhyeong’s and Jiwon’s turn to gape at the tall man, who stood facing Jinhwan with his arms folded. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, good that you’re here then. You can watch me finish the job.” Jinhwan intoned, bringing up the gun and pointing it towards Jiwon. Junhoe stepped into Jinhwan’s line of sight. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I changed my mind.” Junhoe stated, staring down at the gun, now hovering near his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, wait...” Jiwon was saying behind Junhoe now, after remaining silent for so long. “You...you paid someone to kill me?!” There was disbelief now tinged in his raspy voice. Junhoe’s head dropped into his chest hearing Jiwon’s disbelief. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I told you. I hated you, didn’t I? I told you, I still fucking hate you.” Junhoe finally confessed, eyes closed, tears already glistening against his lashes. “You stole him from me! Did you expect me to let go of it so easily?” Junhoe added.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Stole who from what?!" Yunhyeong was asking now, shaking his head slightly in confusion. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then let him do it.” Jiwon said with finality. “Why are you still standing there?” He tried pulling Junhoe away from blocking Jinhwan, but the boy was not budging at all. Jinhwan gazed up at Junhoe’s face, lips pinched tight, looking grim. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because...all I have left of him is a packed of unfinished cigarettes he never got to smoke!” Junhoe yelled, his tears spilling down his cheeks unforgivingly. “Because you took all the memories I was meant to have with him!” Behind him, Jiwon broke into silent tears. He felt all the hurt returning, very much aware that Junhoe’s pain was probably more than his, knowing Junhoe had waited for Hanbin even longer. “And also because...after seeing how much you yourself were in agony, maybe, just maybe, I can’t hate you just as much anymore.” He whispered the last statement, as if he himself had trouble believing the words that were coming from his lips. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“</span><span class="s2">Shit</span> <span class="s1">.” Jinhwan muttered now, realising how complicated the situation had become. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe everyone just needs to calm down, right now.” Yunhyeong was saying, standing up from the seat, trying to ease the tension that was so taut, one could cut up air with it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Junhoe turned to face Jiwon now, face marred by a battery of tears, the perfect picture of a grief untamed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. I did not mean for things to be like this.” And just as he said those last words he turned swiftly, catching Jinhwan off guard. Jinhwan’s arm was thrown back and the gun went off with a deafening bang.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The End Is Nigh</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A mystery unsolved</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A gunshot rang out and reverberated throughout the Hotel Destinè at exactly four am Eastern European Time. For a moment, it was almost as of time stood still within the hotel. It took awhile for the management to rouse the hotel’s security team to ascertained that it had come from Room Two Eight One. By the time they forced the door open, they were surprised to find the room empty. The only evidence to indicate that something disastrous had happened in the room was a bullet hole marked into the left corner of the bed’s headboard, before coming to a stop at the wall behind it. That and a scatter of blood trail leading to the wide open door of the connecting, Room Two Seven Nine.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Surprisingly, the other room was vacant as well. All traces of the four occupants of the respective rooms were nowhere to be found, despite a search that was mounted almost two hours later because they had to call in for the morning shift staff to come in earlier. The only things missing were a towel from Room Two Seven Nine and a lighted candle in Room Two Eight One. Amazingly, the blizzard warning was lifted that very morning and the hotel were kept busy by guests who were ready to check out immediately, ready to leave the dreary weather to somewhere sunnier. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The management had heavily considered checking the airport for flight details and a cursory check by one of their staff, Svetlana, the same lady who had escorted the four gentlemen to their rooms five nights ago, had informed them that only domestic flights had been open and mysteriously enough, none of the flights’ manifest had Korean nationals onboard. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On the basis that the four men were not their countrymen and no dead body had been found to confirm a murder, the hotel’s management decided that the mystery would not be officially lodged to the relevant authorities. Guests, who enquired about the sound at the reception, were informed that it was a passing hunter, who had veered too close to the hotel’s vicinity and who had been let off with a stern warning. By the time the sun rose weakly through the white clouds, the headboard had been removed and replaced, putty had been filled into the hole behind the bed, sheets replaced and the blood cleaned and mopped from off the carpet. It was almost as if the four men had not existed at all.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By that afternoon, both rooms had been occupied by a family of six from France. The parents, sharing a room with their toddlers while the other room occupied by their two older twin boys, precocious and very active fourteen year olds. One of them, rummaging curiously through the bedside table drawer discovered a gun and an unfinished pack of stale cigarettes. Thankfully the father took hold of these items before anything untoward could happen. He made a complaint at the reception and was subsequently provided with complimentary meals for his family at the hotel’s restaurant for the rest of their stay. Both items were kept in a holding box, forgotten for a long time.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Scars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>People say time heal all wounds, but they never talked about the scars left behind. Like any good story, the reason remains a mystery.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em> <strong> <span class="s1">14 months later...</span> </strong> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">The museum was abuzz with activity, official staff had prepared well in advance for the exhibition knowing there was the added brunt of the uptight insurance adviser in charge of the security detail for the exhibition’s main star; </span> <span class="s1">The Gwangju Sapphire. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Sir, everything has been set up. The alarms have been activated. Do you want to go over the details again?” The female staff asked nervously. He was definitely handsome with his coiffed hair and imposing stature. The scar, a line just above his upper lip only added a sort of raffishness, which made him even more mysterious and dangerous. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It’s fine. I went over it just now with the security team. You may open the doors at the appointed time.“ Yunhyeong intoned, his gaze fixed upon the blue jewel encased within the glass covered platform in the middle of the vast exhibition space. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He knew what the security team had been saying behind his back. He was at the last row of the lockers when the two newbies had been talking in the changing room just this morning. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You mean he almost died trying to retrieve the jewel in Russia?! That’s preposterous! Who came up with that theory?” One of them was saying. The other, in the hushed tones relegated to secrecy stated,</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“The jewel was stolen by the owner’s son and he was the insurance investigator. He found the jewel and brought it back. The owner was so thankful that he hired him specifically to set up a security detail for this exhibition.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Ya-was that how he got that scar above his lips? All the girls are going crazy over him. One of them even asked me if I have his number.” The first one was complaining now. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“They said when the gun went off the bullet grazed over the side of his lips past his cheek.” A shadow of a smile appeared on Yunhyeong’s lips when he realised that it was probably the only accurate part of this whole mess of a tale. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Yunhyeong closed his eyes, travelling back to that cold night in the hotel room when Junhoe suddenly swung his arm, causing Jinhwan to accidentally press the trigger on the gun. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The bullet whizzed through the air hitting Junhoe’s left shoulder. It passed through the shoulder blade with a crunching, tearing sound. Yunhyeong who had started forward felt the heat of its trajectory passing by his profile, scouring his upper lip and grazing past his cheek. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Silence. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then Jiwon was shouting Junhoe’s name as the boy crumpled to the floor. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck.” Jinhwan muttered as he caught the gun, gripping tightly rather belatedly. Everything moved with a slowness that was funereal and wrought with great detail. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jiwon dropping his body to catch Junhoe from the back. Junhoe falling into his arms, his face as pale as the winter moon. Yunhyeong turning to gaze at Jinhwan in disbelief. Jinhwan seem to be the only one not trapped within that limbo. He moved, like a sprite flitting about a garden. He disappeared into the bathroom, coming back out with a towel. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s not bleeding.” Jiwon was half yelling in panic, but there was already blood splattered on the floor, although it was surprisingly not much considering he had been wounded by a gun.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Probably hit his shoulder bone.” Jinhwan surmised. “Light that candle and bring it here.” He commanded and Yunhyeong, who could feel something damp over his lips was suddenly freed from his frozen state. He could barely stop his hands from trembling as he lighted the candle with the match provided and passed the item to Jinhwan hurriedly. “Pack our bags and get ready to leave, unless all of you want to stick around and get questioned by the Russian police.” Jinhwan stated and Yunhyeong moved again.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Junhoe-ya.” Jiwon was muttering, one of his hands tapping desperately against a cheek trying to get a response. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Junhoe, this is going to hurt, but we need to close that wound in case it bleeds.” Jinhwan declared and he poured the wax from the candle onto Junhoe’s injured shoulder. Junhoe yelped in pain, his body writhing upwards in reflex. Jinhwan gestured for Jiwon to prop him and poured wax at the back of Junhoe’s shoulder. Junhoe was awake now, but he was sweaty and looked very pale. “Dress him and see if he can stand with you supporting him. I’ll get both your luggages.” Jinhwan stated firmly as Yunhyeong walked back into the room with both his and Jinhwan’s things. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yunhyeong had a towel over his upper lip. He had tasted copper against the tip of his tongue as he rushed to packed both his and Jinhwan's things, realising that he was bleeding slightly from that stray bullet when it grazed him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">From then on, everything moved with the blurry speed of light. Jinhwan kicking open the fire escape exit and walking out into the cold air. Jiwon stumbling behind with a weak Junhoe, whose uninjured arm was draped around his neck. Yunhyeong at the back, pulling two luggages, his and Jiwon’s with Junhoe’s duffel bag plus guitar case strapped over his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They hustled behind the hotel’s back alley towards the main road. Jinhwan sighted the truck first, flagging it. The town roads had just been cleared from the snow and the truck had been one of the first few vehicles to leave Vladiovostok that dawn. Some words and cash were exchanged between Jinhwan and the driver. Then suddenly they were up on the cab behind. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time the hotel room was refurbished, the four of them were already filing into a clinic in another rural town the truck driver had recommended, to have Junhoe’s bullet wound attended to. He removed the bullet after close to seven hours of outpatient surgery. It was harrowing, and in between Jiwon managed to explain to both Yunhyeong and Jinhwan what was actually going on between him and Junhoe to clear the air between them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The doctor at the clinic found them a ride that would take them all the way to Moscow which had been a relief, but Junhoe had broke out into a fever in the middle of the night and they had to make another pitstop at the next town. They had spent the night in a cheap, rundown motel, taking turns looking after Junhoe, who was in and out of it most of the night. At one point, he kept telling Jiwon to close the door and chase Hanbin away. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tell him to go away! I can’t follow him now! I’m sick!” He had shouted weakly. The three of them had stared at each other wordlessly, feeling lost and even more stranded than they did at the beginning of their journey. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jiwon was the most tireless among the three, wiping Junhoe’s sweat and even holding him down when his fevers had caused him to hallucinate and holler quite suddenly in the dead of the night. On the fourth day of their journey, Junhoe finally woke up with a smile plastered weakly across his lips, eating more than the mouthfuls he barely took and they were finally able to resume their travels to Moscow. They parted at the airport. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here, you help me return this to my father.” Jiwon had taken out a velvet tote from his luggage and held it out to Yunhyeong. Yunhyeong, who actually the worst for wear among all of them with that scar still raw and red on his lips had loosened the string and gazed inside. Something gleamed across his face; a blue glow which shimmered across his face like an ocean. It was The Gwangju Sapphire. “Tell him that you found it on my dead body. That I said sorry before I died.” Jiwon interred. He never felt belonged in that family anyway. He had refused even from the beginning, to be caught within the constant tussle of wealth between his uncles and stepbrothers. There was no love lost there, at all.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Why did you take it, in the first place?" Yunhyeong asked curiously. Jiwon shrugged.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I don't know. I just felt like it needed to see the world with me." Jiwon added in banter. "Maybe I needed to know what was more important to them, me or it." He added in resignation. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yunhyeong tightened his hold on the bag and nodded, gripping Jiwon’s hand tightly in promise. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Will you be alright with him?” Yunhyeong had turned to Junhoe, holding out his hand. Junhoe, who had slowly regained his strength over the </span> <span class="s1">many days of travel nodded assuringly, shaking Yunhyeong’s hand gently, a wistful smile on his lips. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What about you, Jinhwan?” Jiwon asked the smaller man. Jinhwan had smiled apologetically first at Junhoe and then at Jiwon. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I need a proper break for now. Maybe rest up a while before going back to work.” He stated and then turned to Junhoe. “I’m really sorry Junhoe. You know I did not pull...” It had been the same thing he had intoned over and over again when they had been on the road. Junhoe had held up his hand, stopping Jinhwan abruptly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine. I’ll be better. Stop saying you’re sorry.” Junhoe exhaled, this time holding his hand out, which Jinhwan shook with gentle care. "Both of you, I'm pretty sure I'm in good hands. If he doesn't take care of me properly, I'll contact you and maybe you can finish the job for me properly this time." Junhoe joked to their resounding laughter.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He had neither seen both Jiwon nor Junhoe since then.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> He had glanced back at them once before he entered the departure gate and saw Jiwon pecking Junhoe's forehead affectionately, thinking maybe the two of them had gotten more out of being stranded together than he did, despite knowing he had the jewel with him. He had flown with Jinhwan to Korea, but they both had separated at Incheon Airport. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Mister Kim barely cared for the fact that his son was dead. He seemed to be more concerned for the jewel and Yunhyeong felt a sense of bitterness mixed with relief that Jiwon had been sensible enough to cut off his ties with his family without a second thought. Surprisingly, Jiwon’s father made Yunhyeong an offer to join his security team and Yunhyeong had agreed immediately. It was almost two hours into the exhibition when someone from the floor burst into the security room, breathless and in utter panic.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Sir...sir...” The young security officer called out, eyes searching wildly before settling on Yunhyeong. He stood up from behind his desk, gazing at the boy expectantly. “It’s...it’s gone...the jewel is gone!” The officer cried and everyone was galvanised into action. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Play the security footage from the last hour.” Yunhyeong ordered and the team did. One familiar figure stood out particularly for Yunhyeong. He had a beret on, but he would never forget that petite stature. He was still fair as ever and Yunhyeong could already picture the playful smile playing on his lips. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Are you really going to return that to his father? I got a better idea, why don’t we sell it at the black market and make some real money for ourselves?” Jinhwan had suggested when the plane had finally cruised out of Russian airspace and into the Korea. Yunhyeong had chortled in disbelief, folding his arms and feigning sleep. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">After returning the jewel and meeting Mister Kim, Yunhyeong had searched his pockets and looked for the card Jinhwan had given him. <em>In case you changed your mind</em>, he heard Jinhwan's voice echo in his mind. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dear TangerineHeart204</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em><span class="s1">Ready to take you up on your offer. Contact me. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Scarred252</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">When the jewel was reported missing for the second time, it made an uproar which received extensive coverage from all media fronts. Rumours began to circulate that the Kim family had purposely done this for public exposure, so that they could make a claim in the insurance for the jewel. The family’s reputation suffered and within a month, the company’s stocks had taken a dive from which it never recovered. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Until today, The Gwangju Sapphire’s whereabouts remained unknown. Yunhyeong quit the team after a few months, never to be seen again. Many speculated he was deeply affected by the theft and had gone underground due to his failure at protecting the Kim family's precious stone. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. A Befitting End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sometimes, memories that are too painful can be shared to make way for new and better ones.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The snow had fallen thickly on the ground. It covered the grass, but Junhoe was doing good work clearing the ice which had frozen around the stone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re going to hurt your arm if you keep at it like that.” Jiwon commented wryly. Junhoe stopped and glared at him in a daring manner. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Make me stop, if you can.” Junhoe challenged and then continued with what he was doing. Jiwon kept his silence. He had learnt in the one and a half year of being around Junhoe that it was better not to parry with the younger man when it comes to the things he wanted to achieve. The fact that he survived a gunshot wound and still made it to the orchestra's first list after rigorous auditions which would have threatened his career, was more than enough testament to that. Sure, his arm was probably singing an aria today, but he would barely say anything about it to anyone. Not even Jiwon, whom he has come to love with equal, if not more, stubborn tenacity. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His injured arm always did ache, especially during cold weather or when he played the guitar for too long. The doctor had already said he should not overwork it if he planned to continue playing for the orchestra for a long tme. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not like we get to come here everyday. “ Junhoe complained now, working on clearing the sleet from the headstone itself, so that they could now both see Hanbin’s hangeul name clearly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on, leave the flowers and let’s go. It’s cold out here!” Jiwon urged and from the heavy rasp of his voice, Junhoe could tell he was getting emotional. Junhoe did not even have to glance back now to confirm this. Jiwon's weakness had always been how candid he was with his emotions and by virtue of that, it was also one of his strongest suit. It was the only honest part of him which made Junhoe fall for him. How he always wore his heart on his sleeves. Junhoe stood up after resting the bouquet against the tombstone. Pink carnations with a spray of baby’s breath. Hanbin would have loved it. He held his hand out to Jiwon, who clasped it petulantly, closing his eyes and muttering a prayer.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course, things would have been different if Hanbin was alive. They would probably have not even known of each other's existence and it would have been Hanbin's choice to make, to whom he would want to give his heart to. As it was, Hanbin's demise, as tragic as it was, also allowed for them to meet and gradually brought them to where they were now. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The walk back out to the entrance of the cemetery was filled with a silence that was comfortable. Jiwon had not released Junhoe’s hand and Junhoe made no attempt to retrieve it from Jiwon’s grip. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Borscht would be so good to have right now.” Junhoe husked into the cold air, his breath marked with plumes, reminding Jiwon of the first night they had met stuck in the airport while a blizzard was going on outside. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s go have borscht at your favourite diner.” Jiwon stated with excitement. They had been in Moscow for slightly more than a year now. Junhoe had fulfilled his dream of playing for Russia’s Philharmonic despite his shoulder injury and in less than a month, he would be joining the Korean chapter, after earning a spot in the strings section. They were both flying back in a weeks’ time. Together. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you buying?” Junhoe chuckled teasingly. Jiwon had finally started his online gaming business, which had been phenomenally successful in Moscow. He was returning to Korea and officially launch it there with the intention of distributing it worldwide. Jiwon nodded, crescents marking his eyes where his smile had buried them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d buy you the whole diner if you wanted it.” Jiwon promised and he looked so serious, Junhoe swung the hand, which was still holding his tightly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ya~stop joking.” Junhoe declared. The smile on Jiwon’s lips continued to flourish. He was serious though. For the past year, he had dedicated his life to looking after Junhoe. His wounds had not healed as smoothly and there was a point when he was almost advised to give up playing music as it would have taken a toll on his shoulder. Jiwon had been impressed by Junhoe’s steely determination to continue persevering. Inadvertently, this had also sparked his dormant heart and he fell in love once more after that bout of heartache he had been trapped in since Hanbin left him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Junhoe though, had been a reluctant participant. He resisted all forms of courtship, refused to entertain Jiwon, even though Jiwon was also the one who ensured he went for his health appointments and to all the auditions, which had quietly taken its toll on his health. When he was hospitalised six months after starting his work with the orchestra and the doctors advised him from playing music, he had been devastated and would probably have given up if Jiwon had not been there for him. After many months of resistance, Junhoe finally allowed Jiwon to kiss him again. They had been inseparable ever since. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Unbelievable!” Jiwon was exclaiming now after his phone had beeped and he began scrolling through message that had just come in. Junhoe gazed at him in bafflement and he showed Junhoe his phone. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was a photo of Jinhwan and Yunhyeong, sipping on piná coladas in what could only be a Mediterranean beach. Yunhyeong had informed Jiwon of his desire to steal the jewel, but Jiwon was surprised that he actually acted on it. While in awe of Yunhyeong's reasons for doing it, he definitely did not want Yunhyeong to get into trouble on his behalf. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Ya~Kim Jiwon. You might be a difficult man but you still deserve a better family." Yunhyeong had argued. "How is our little fighter? He texted me and told me he got a place in the Korean Philharmonic Symphony?" Yunhyeong had asked after Junhoe. It was amazing how much Yunhyeong doted on Junhoe. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> ‘<em>Wish you both were here!</em>’ Was the message that came with the photo. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They really did it, didn’t they?” Junhoe whispered in disbelief. Jiwon laughed, nodding his head. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But that beach looks good doesn’t it? Where do you think that is? Bora Bora? Saint Barts’?” Jiwon tried guessing. “Should we join them?” Jiwon asked, placing an arm around Junhoe’s shoulder gently. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The beach sounds good right now. I’m tired of all this snow.” Junhoe admitted ruefully, fingers coming up to clear the snowflakes which had gotten caught on Jiwon’s fringe. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmm, summer sounds just about right, don’t you think?” Jiwon closed his eyes; already imagining the warmth of the sun, the soft cushion of sand under his feet and Junhoe's hand folded tightly in his. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are we getting stranded again? With those two?” Junhoe looked on with amusement. Jiwon opened his eyes. They sparkle across Junhoe’s face with the kind of love Junhoe never thought he could ever possibly experienced.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Babe, I don’t mind getting stranded anywhere in this world, as long as it’s with you.” Jiwon admitted pulling Junhoe closer to him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">
    
    <em>
      <strong>END</strong>
    </em>
  </span>
</p>
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